God Could Not Be Everywhere so He Gave Brothers
by Spanano
Summary: Many years ago in the Iberian Peninsula was a small boy who had nothing to him but a name. That is, until he found a note that would save him from the shackles of servitude.
1. One Simple Note

**_God Could Not Be Everywhere so He Gave__ Brothers_**

**A/N: Hello my dears! This is a small short story that I'm working on, as prompted by someone on my tumblr. It's being posted here just so I can share it with those of you who may or may not know my tumblr or may not even have one. I hope you enjoy.  
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My little brother was always a sickly child. Mi mamá babied him and I saw how it angered my Elder siblings. But, the child was kind and giving. He had something that my brothers and I didn't have. He had innocence. Hermanito wasn't brought up during Roman conquests, nor did he see Papá y Mamá die for my siblings and me. He was naïve…but his naivety was the reason he was to be the union of our peninsula.

As time passed, our peninsula changed hands many a time. And many a war was fought. It is believed, amongst my siblings and me of course, that the child began to realize what he had to do in life during the Moorish rule of our country. He never had a true childhood. My little brother was constantly fighting for a country that didn't exist quite yet, and for that, he had the purest of hearts.

His story starts one cold winter day, in the present day province of Madrid. And with the start of his story, we began writing the history books of Spain.

He didn't know any form of the language that became Spanish, only Arabic. After all, why would a child acting as a slave for Moor know the beautiful romance languages once spoken in Iberia? But, at least his name had stayed the same. No horrendous, Islamic or Moorish name was given to the purest child of the Iberian siblings.

"Antonio."

He would always jerk his head at his name, as if he didn't know that it was actually his name. Moor used his name all too often. For being just a child, he was doing the work of a man. Antonio's face was constantly covered in dirt. His hands were just as dirty, mud caked between his fingernails. And so the child worked. He cleaned stables and watched as other children his age played.

Chores were all my little brother knew. One misstep and he had a hand to the face, a paddle to the backside, a cat-o-nine tails to his small, quivering back.

Moor didn't recognize my little Toñito was a sickly boy. He would sport fevers of around 23 degrees Celsius, but of course, there was no way Moor knew that. So Antonio worked, callousing those hands that fought tooth and nail for the nation that stands in the modern era.

One day, Antonio was sweeping nothing from the front step of Moor's home. It was a mundane and useless task, but all the same Antonio worked. He bent down, noticing a piece of parchment that had gotten caught in his broom.

With slender fingers, my little brother lifted the paper and unfolded it, his emerald green eyes scanning across the carefully written words on the paper.

"What is this…?"

Antonio jerked his head up, frowning as the paper was snatched from his hands. "I'm…I'm not sure…I found it on the front stoop…"

The man who had snagged the frail piece of paper from his hands, read over the paper himself, humming quietly. "Can you even read, boy?"

Antonio flinched.

"So you can…" The larger man walked around and bent in front of the child, griping his chin tightly between rough, worn hands. "What have I told you about reading? Where did you learn?"

Once again, Antonio flinched. He glanced down at the ground remaining silent, but the grip on him tightened.

"Where did you learn?" The question was firmer this time.

"From your books…."

A hand to the cheek and Antonio's head jerked to the side. He panted; emerald eyes wide, breaths quick and ragged. "I'm sorry."

Moor stood up straight, crinkling the paper between his fingers, finally letting it fall back to whence it came. "Finish your damn chores."

The child nodded, ducking his head in shame, shakily returning to his mundane chores.

_I was told the purest of all Iberia was here. At the darkest part of night, meet past the courtyard. I will save you from your pain. Be free, child. You've done your suffering.  
C.F.C_

Night fell quickly, and Antonio was sure to head to bed before Moor saw him and could make him work even more. He crawled into bed, snuggling under the light blanket, staring up at the ceiling. He was jittery. The note had literally told him to defy and, dare he say it, run away from Moor.

The night wore on, and finally it was near pitch black outside, the moon hiding behind the thick of clouds that hung in the air. Quietly, Antonio rolled out of bed, packing up the few belongings he had and sneaking into the kitchen, stealing some bread that the cooks had made earlier and some Manchego cheese. He rolled them into a cloth and stuffed them away, his tiny hands shaking.

Slowly, Antonio took a breath, steeling his nerves and pushing open the door, stepping outside slowly, his bare feet barely making any noise in the grass. His green eyes glanced around, his breaths quick and nervous, "…I shouldn't d-do this…" he stammered.

Antonio wandered out further from the house, his hands trembling, knees feeling weak. Once more, he looked around, feeling hot tears well in his eyes. "W-What am I doing…?" Antonio asked himself, sinking down onto his haunches, sniffling, and burying his face in his arms. "Stupid, stupid, stupid…!" He frowned, glancing up as he heard hooves against the ground.

Oh no. This was a set-up. Moor was testing his loyalty. Instantly, Antonio scrambled to his feet, forgetting his sack of belongings and food beside him and he bolted. He ran as fast as his tiny, bare feet could carry him.

But that wasn't enough. Strong arms scooped the boy into their arms and held him close. Antonio simply burst into tears, sobbing and blubbering about how sorry he was and he didn't mean to listen. Slowly, two fingers put themselves to his lips.

"Shh, hermanito, don't you cry now." The words weren't Arabic, and therefore gibberish to Antonio.

The child heaved and shuddered, glancing up at the man clutching onto him. "W-What?" He stammered his Arabic shaky and nervous sounding.

A sigh was heard, "Right, Arabic. That bastard took your native language from you." This time the man behind Antonio spoke in Arabic and Toni sighed in relief. "That knap-sack, was it yours?"

Antonio nodded. "Yeah…"

"Good, because I grabbed it."

The child glanced down, hugging himself tightly. "Who are you?" He whispered.

Antonio could sense the other was smiling, and it just made him even more nervous. "My name's Cristoval. And, mi hermanito, I'm your older brother."


	2. And He Was Intimidating

**_God Could Not Be Everywhere so He Gave_Brothers**

**A/****N: Here's part II my dears. I'm thinking this story is going to have at minimum V sections, so we'll see how it rolls out. Please enjoy! RxR**

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Those words just ran through Antonio's ears and he hugged himself tighter. Slowly, the child shook his head no, digging his fingernails roughly into his soft arms. "I don't have any siblings."

A hearty laugh rang from behind him, and Antonio felt the older male shake his head. "Yes you do, myself, your sister Ariana, Xavier if you wish to count him, and Portugal."

Antonio flinched hearing Portugal. "I don't consider him a sibling."

"And why's that?" Cris looked down at the child sitting in front of him on the horse.

The child clenched his fist in the horse's thick, dark mane. He stayed silent for a moment, contemplating what he wanted to respond with and how he was going to respond. After a minute or so he eventually shrugged, giving a shaky sigh. "He left me…" Antonio squeaked out, biting his lip roughly, feeling hot tears prick at already watery emerald eyes. "Left me to die in the hands of Moor…"

Cris remained quiet, resting a reassuring hand on Antonio's shoulder, his other hand occupied with the reins of the horse. Feeling Antonio shrug the hand away, Cris decided to move his hand around the child's waist and hold him so he wouldn't fall off the horse. "No one's going to leave you this time, Antonio, I promise you."

Antonio only nodded, resting back against Cristoval, feeling truly safe, despite sitting in front of a stranger who had just scooped him up randomly. Slowly, the young child began to drift off to sleep, rocking as the horse galloped along the dirt roads that led away from Moor's castle.

Hours had passed by time Antonio woke again. He glanced around blearily, clutching his pathetic robe around him tighter. "Cris…?" He asked quietly, remembering the older man's name. "Cris where are you?"

The child continued to take in his surroundings, hugging himself tightly. Once again he found himself all alone. Antonio tugged his legs up, wrapping his arms tightly around them, huddling back into his fetal position. He felt hot tears well in his eyes for probably the hundredth time in the past twenty-four hours.

"Hey…you okay?"

Antonio jerked his head up at the voice and instantly relaxed, letting his arms fall from the tight hold they held on his scrawny legs. He nodded vigorously, wiping furiously at his glassy eyes. "Of course I'm alright…!" He stammered stubbornly, glancing away from the older man. "I just…" He trailed off, getting a lost look in his eyes.

Cristoval frowned at Antonio, taking a seat next to him, "You just what?" He asked kindly, putting enough space in between him and Toni to keep a comfortable distance yet be in less than an arm's reach just in case he needed comfort. Cristoval waited patiently for the child to speak up, not wanting to pressure him and throw his younger brother into a stressful situation.

"I'd thought you left…" Antonio finally murmured, wringing his thin wrists carefully. "Everyone always does, so I w-wouldn't have been surprised…but…I…" He stopped again, taking a deep breath, finding sudden interest in the ground. "But I started thinking that you were different from the rest."

Cristoval nodded in silent understanding, tilting his head back to glance up at the sky. It was grey and wintery, over-cast skies making for a dull, dark journey. "I know it's going to take some time," he started slowly, shrugging off his cloak and draping it around the child's shoulders. "But, eventually you'll come to find that there are plenty of people out there who love you for you, and not only for what work you can do."

Antonio stayed silent for a moment, digging his bare heels into the ground. He flinched feeling the cloak fall across his small, quivering shoulders, looking up with a shocked expression on his face, one hand gripping the fabric and tugging it closer around his malnourished frame. "Thank you." He whispered quietly.

A smile tugged at Cristoval's lips and he nodded, standing up and stretching. "Not a problem. Now, up you go. We have only a few hours of daylight to go and quite a ways to go." Cris looked up at the sky one last time, frowning as cold rain began to drip on his face. "Plus… we should find shelter."

Antonio himself looked up as well, flinching as the cold rain dripped on his face. His nimble fingers tightened around the cloak Cris had given him, tugging it closer to his body. "Uh-huh,"

Quickly, the pair packed up, packing up their few belongings onto the horse. Cristoval glanced down at Antonio and hoisted him up onto the Andalusian horse. "Vamos…" He murmured, mounting the horse right after he had gotten his little brother settled onto the horse's back.

Antonio shifted awkwardly, flinching a bit as his thighs brushed against the horse's muscular back. He glanced back towards Cris, sinking down at how intimidating the older man looked.

In hindsight, the bigger man was not that large at that point, but tall enough to show his underlying strength. His figure lean and most likely nimble, and his features presented in striking resemblance to his heritage; a tousled shock of chocolate curly locks of hair, gently ending at the nape of his neck, and eyes of a varied but similar green element. Although green like Antonio's, the older boy's eyes almost seemed filled with wisdom not normal for a man of his age. His soft facial features showed no usual frown lines, his regular expression one displaying his lips slightly twitched upwards, a pleasant disposition to his body language. It was apparent to Antonio that he was surprisingly head-strong, but his disposition of relaxation was something of a contradiction.

"Are you ready?"

Antonio was ripped from his wandering thoughts and nodded quickly at Cris. "Yeah, I am…sorry."

The older man gave a pleasant smile and shook his head. "Think nothing of it." He squeezed his legs around the horse, gently tapping its rear with his heel, urging it to move ahead, the two of them leaving behind their small campsite, moving on to brighter and better things.

Their journey was a simple one, finally breaking from the woods and into a clearing with a small home, a young lady working outside, skinning some animals, obviously for meat for dinner that evening.

"Ariana!" Cris called, grinning and slowing the horse down from a gallop to a gentle walk. "Hermana, I have him!"

The girl, obviously startled by some man screaming at her, turned around quickly, brushing some of her brunette hair that had escaped her ribbon from her face. "Don't you dare startle me like that, Cristoval!" she scolded, stomping her foot in mock annoyance at the man in front of her. "It took you far too long! I was half tempted to send stupid Xavier aft-" She stopped midsentence, staring at the child in front of Cris. "I…"

Cris gave Antonio a firm pat to the shoulder and nodded at his sister. "The note worked, just as you said it would."

Ariana gave a half-hearted nod, abandoning her work, cleaning her hands on her dress and wandering up to the horse. "He's so thin…" she whispered, with Cris's help lifting him from the horse and holding him to her chest. "Oh mi Toñito…" Ariana gazed back up at Cris, green eyes narrowing somewhat. "Moor didn't catch you, did he?"

"No. It was a safe, easy journey." Cris replied coolly, dismounting his horse and tying it to a horse post outside the small home. "I was surprised how aloof he was. He wasn't prowling around like one would expect."

A small frown creased Ariana's forehead and she gave a small nod. "Then we should probably expect him to start searching for Antonio." She gazed up at Cris again. "He only knows Arabic, yes?"

Cris nodded, folding his arms across his broad chest, "Yeah. That bastard stripped him of all knowledge of any of the languages Mamá used to speak."

Ariana huffed, setting Antonio down, who scrambled back over to Cris and clung to his leg, hiding behind him. "Well, no matter. Right now we need to feed and clothe the boy better." She sighed, rocking back on her heels somewhat, once again brushing those stubborn strands of chocolate brown hair from her face. "Take him inside and I'll finish up out here, then we can eat dinner, alright?"

Cris nodded and scooped Antonio into his strong arms again. "Alright, I suppose we'll see you inside."

Ariana sighed, watching the two shut the door before shaking her head and retying her brunette hair in a tight ponytail held in place by a red ribbon. "So we'll be on our toes…"


	3. O Gloriosa Domina

**_God Could Not Be Everywhere so He Gave Brothers_**

A/N: Hello my precious readers! Here's part III. I originally thought this would only be about 5 or so parts, but I'm guessing it'll probably be a bit more than that. I hope you all enjoy! ~Ana

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Green eyes stared down at the hearty meal placed in front of him on the table. He felt saliva form in his mouth and swallowed hard to keep from drooling at the delectable.

"Is it not to your liking?" Ariana asked, sitting down next to the child.

Antonio jerked his head up, blinking dumbly for a moment before shaking his head no quickly. "No..! No…" He trailed off, eyes glancing back down at the meal set in front of him. "I just…" He bit his lip. "I've never had such a full dinner…" He picked up his fork, taking a piece of the rabbit meat and plopping it in his mouth chewing and swallowing thoughtfully. "Moor would only serve bread or really watery soup…" He made a bit of a disgusted face as the words rolled off his tongue. "He kept all the big, expensive food for himself. He told me those lacking Moorish blood cannot eat well."

Ariana twitched somewhat, clenching her fist, nodding slowly. "I see…well," she paused to clear her throat. "Don't eat too fast, alright?" She relaxed, leaning back in the chair, watching her little brother dig in. "Do you know why Moor separated you from us?"

Antonio continued to eat, shaking his head no as he chewed.

A small smile crossed Ariana's face and she patted his hand. "Cris and I represent parts of the Iberian Union." Antonio froze and looked up. "So do you. What yet, we're not sure, but we'll know soon enough. I represent Castile, and Cris represents Léon. You have an elder brother named Xavier, Xavi for short, and he represents Aragon."

Antonio dropped his fork and stared. "I…"

"You know how Moor is simply, "Moor"?" Ariana asked, trying to clear things up for Antonio. "That's like the three of us, it's the same thing. We represent parts of the world, the three of us specifically the Iberian Peninsula."

Slowly, Antonio nodded. "A-Alright," he glanced down at his food. "That's why Moor is different from us, right?"

Ariana nodded. "Exactly, but that doesn't mean—well, he himself is a bad person, but that doesn't mean other people from his ethnicity are as bad and evil as he is, you understand?"

Once again, Antonio nodded, pushing his empty plate away. "So…you're saying Moor is on this…" He made a circular motion with his hand, "On this land without permission?"

A soft hum left Ariana's lips and she laid back somewhat in her chair. She sighed, running a hand through her brunette hair, giving a small nod at her little brother, "In a sense, yes. You were too young to remember, but Moor crippled the former civilization that was here…then he took over." Ariana got up, taking the plates and moving them aside, bending down in front of her little brother, placing a hand on his face. "Go the sleep now, little one. We can talk in the morning. I know this extremely confusing for you…"

Antonio closed his eyes and nodded, leaning into the touch. "Alright," he murmured softly, sighing softly as Ariana's thumb stroked his cheek. He stayed still, not wanting to leave the warmth of Ariana's touch, starting to doze off exactly where he was at the table.

With a soft smile, Ariana scooped up the small boy, carrying him to a section of the home with a bed. Carefully, she laid him down and kissed his forehead, brushing Antonio's messy bangs from his forehead. "Duerme bien, mi hermanito…" Ariana whispered softly against his forehead. She tucked in her brother and stood quietly, sneaking out of the room, shutting the thin wooden door.

"He asleep?"

Ariana twitched and looked up from the door, giving a nod at the direction the voice came. "Yeah. He fell asleep at the table." She chuckled fondly. "He's so small, Cris…"

Cristoval pursed his lips, giving a short nod. "I noticed. We'll just have to plump him up a bit. I doubt the conditions at Moor's house were sanitary and nourishing." He moved to sit in one of the chairs, serving himself some of the small dinner Ariana had cooked. "He was so fidgety when I first picked him up, I thought he was going to pass out or something."

"Are we doing the right thing?" Ariana asked, taking a seat across from Cris. She gazed up at the elder with soft green eyes. "I mean, we might be putting him in more danger by taking him from Moor."

"Hush." Cris snapped quickly. "Mamá wouldn't want him to be abused as he has been by that Moorish bastard. It was time. I…" He trailed off, running a hand through his thick brunette hair. "I had made a promise to him when Mamá had passed away. I told him I'd come for him. I can't let mi hermanito down now, now can I?"

The younger of the two Iberians grew quiet. She pulled her wavy brunette hair from its loose ponytail, braiding it quietly, staring down at the table as she fiddled with her hair. "_O gloriosa domina excels super sidera, qui te creavit provide, lactas sacrato ubere. Quod Eva tristis abstulit, tu reddis almo germine; intrent ut astra flebiles, sternis benigna semitam. __Tu regis alti ianua et porta lucis fulgida; vitam datam per Virginem, gentes redeptae, plaudite. Patri sit Paraclito tuoque Nato gloria, qui veste te mirabili circumdederunt gratiae. Amen."_

"Amen..." Cris murmured, glancing at his sister. "I'm assuming Moor took his religion, too?"

Ariana shrugged, continuing to play with her hair. "I'm not too sure, probably so. He's Muslim and until the day Mamá died, Antonio was Catholic. We can probably safely assume that Moor wiped all of that out. It's a shame, really. He has to relearn Iberian languages and even his religion. He has to start over from scratch, no?"

"It really is a pity," Cris murmured softly.

"You mustn't blame yourself for Moor's taking of Antonio, Cristoval." Ariana mumbled, moving her hand from her hair and placing it on Cris's considerably bigger hand. "It was inevitable. He would have found him anyway."

Cris scowled and tugged his hand away from Ariana, standing up abruptly and turning to glare at her. "So are you saying Mamá y Papá's untimely deaths were also inevitable, Castile?"

Ariana flinched at the use of her rising Kingdom's name instead of her human name. "Cris…" She whispered, glancing up at him. "I…" She sighed, giving a small nod. "Yes it was, Moor was going to invade whether or not you had run away like you did. It's not like you could've stopped him. He had an _army, _Cristoval."

The taller male scoffed and folded his arms, shooting one last icy glare over his shoulder at his sister. "I'm going to bed." He growled, stalking off to his own room. "I suggest you do the same."

Sighing quietly, Ariana nodded, standing up to clean up the remains of their dinner. "Sleep well," She said in a hushed voice, watching Cris storm off. With another sigh, Ariana finished cleaning up, blowing out the candles that lit up the small space. She remained in the cooking area of the home, running her hand over the wooden table. "I doubt he even knows you ran, Cris…" Ariana murmured to herself.

She stayed for a few moments, finally lighting another candle and heading outside, tugging the shawl that hung over her shoulders closer around her body. "God…" She murmured, sitting quietly outside, sitting the candle beside her. "My Lord, tell me if I am on the right path. Where we right to take this child and potentially put him in more harm than he was previously in?"

Ariana remained quiet, murmuring a good night prayer moving her hand in a motion from her head and across her chest to form a cross. "Amen," She murmured quietly, picking up the candle quickly and heading back inside. She set it down, blowing it out, watching silently for a moment as the once liquid wax dried and solidified down the sides of the candle before heading to bed herself. She could sort out her feelings and the situation in the morning.

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**A/N: The hymn that Ariana sings softly is "O Gloriosa Domnia" which is an ancient Iberian Hymn that was written in the mid 500's. It was used by the Iberian version of the Catholic Church, hence why Ariana sings it. The translated lyrics are here:**

O HEAVEN'S glorious mistress,  
enthron'd above the starry sky!  
thou feedest with thy sacred breast  
thy own Creator, Lord most high.  


**What man had lost in hapless Eve,  
thy sacred womb to man restores,  
thou to the wretched here beneath  
hast open'd Heaven's eternal doors.**

Hail, O refulgent Hall of light!  
Hail Gate august of Heaven's high King!  
through thee redeem'd to endless life,  
thy praise let all the nations sing.

**To the Father and the Spirit  
and to thy Son all glory be,  
who with a wonderous garment  
of graces encircled thee. Amen.**

Anywho. I hope you all enjoyed. Much love and happy reading.  



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